


My Heart Knows Better

by belivaird_st



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:54:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22782880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belivaird_st/pseuds/belivaird_st
Summary: Therese rides home with Dannie after one late work night.
Relationships: Carol Aird/Therese Belivet
Kudos: 46





	My Heart Knows Better

“The city is not some playground you can roam free on. There’s a lot of sick fucks out there. Excuse my French.”

“Why do people say that?”

Therese side glanced at Dannie in the backseat of the taxi cab, who had been slumped over the black leather upholstery with his fist pushing up against the side of his cheek.

“Say what, kid?”

“The saying, ‘Excuse my French’ whenever they swear. Don’t they realize they’re being insulting, no matter what? People from France must loathe it.” 

Dannie cracks up, making Therese fall nervous and quiet. She turns her head to look out the window, clutching her work briefcase on top of her lap.

“See ya, tomorrow?” asks the boy who’s crazy in love with her, craning his neck to look out the hanging side car door Therese holds onto. She stands outside on the curb in the pouring rain. The weather has been too warm for snow, which is a surprising change for the month of February.

“Bright and early.” Therese closes the door on him and takes a step backwards with her bag bumping against her plaid skirt. The driver honks his horn and drives onward on the watery streets with Dannie McElroy blowing kisses inside the beaded rainwater window glass.

Therese brings herself inside the apartment, closing the door shut behind her. All the rooms have been switched off for the night. She pulls her pair of heels off her stockinged feet and wiggles out of her coat. Setting her bag down, she moves through the hallway toward upstairs.

Carol is lying on one side of the bed, but stirs awake once she hears Therese moving across the darkened bedroom into the connecting bathroom to turn on the light. She sits up halfway, eyes squinting through darkness.

“Did I wake you?” Therese looks back at her in the orange glow of the bathroom.

“I was barely asleep,” Carol answers, rubbing her face. She fumbles for the lamp on the nightstand and grimaces from the blinding brightness that instantly fills up the room. Therese stands in front of the medicine cabinet mirror, brushing her teeth. She spits. Brushes more. Spits again into the sink before rinsing her mouth with cold water.

“It’s no picnic without you, darling,” Carol keeps talking. “How was work?”

“Steady,” Therese replies. “I rode home with Dannie.” She comes out of the bathroom to retrieve her periwinkle silk pajamas that were laid and folded neatly for her on the vanity chair to dress into. She buttons up her top and moves around her side of the bed with Carol throwing back some of the cream comforter blanket.

“How’s he doing? Still fancies you?”

Therese crawls into bed, slipping her legs and feet underneath the blankets with Carol covering them up. She lays her head on a pillow with a sigh. 

“I think he’ll never stop,” she mutters. She closes her eyes with her hands folded. “He thinks that one day I’ll wake up and give him a chance.” 

“Just stick to your true feelings and keep being you.” Carol now twists over to turn off the lamp‘s light on top of the cherrywood nightstand.

The soft puttering of rain keeps falling outside the hushed tones of New York through the drawn curtains behind all the sealed glass windows.


End file.
